


Time and Again

by radikalsheek



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 02:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1451242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radikalsheek/pseuds/radikalsheek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are not my characters, they belong to Maggie Stiefvater and I am grateful to her for their creation.</p><p>I have no idea if this bears any resemblance to the Raven Cycle story arc but it's where I wanted to go.</p><p>Kind of AU. Oh yeah, sweet & sappy.</p><p> </p><p>Would you give me forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time and Again

The mist still swirled in thick patches across the forest when he uncurled his long frame from the blankets and stretched out of the moss covered bower in which he slept. His long dark hair had escaped from its thong during a restless night and fell around his shoulders. He gathered it together and secured it again. He ran a hand across his chin and decided he could put off scraping the beard there into order for another day. Or two. 

Emerging from his bower, he found a small fire lit on the stones he used as hearth. Beside it was a small loaf of fresh maslin and a tankard of ale. The little clearing in which he stood had also been recently swept. He raised his eyebrows at the trees, but they, for once, were silent. They were complicit in this, he knew. It seemed everything around him was of a similar mind. 

“You can come out”, he said, aloud to the glade. 

There was a rustling to his left and the boy emerged. His tunic was ragged but clean and his dusty hair was neatly brushed. 

“You must have risen early to have accomplished this as well as your other duties. I thank you.”

The boy nodded. “My lord,” he began.

“I am not a lord.” 

“The king calls you thus.” 

“The king is kind.”

“The king is clever. You are more than a lord and he knows this.”

“Lords hold land and I have none.”

“You have more than anyone.”

Abruptly, he was tired of the verbal jousting and his endless attempts to hold the boy at bay. The boy was determined. Should he just give in? He heard the trees rustle in agreement. It was odd, to him, this concept of having. How could a man talk of having when the land was there before them and would be there after? How could a person claim to own the trees and forests when their years and knowledge dwarfed the man’s brief span. They were seeds to the forests mighty limbs. The trees rustled in agreement again with a sly suggestion that perhaps he heed their counsel then. He sent a sour look back at them.

The boy was waiting. He too was looking at the trees, a smile curling his tender mouth. Perhaps this one did understand but looking at that mouth reminded him of why this was not a good idea.

“You are very young.”

The boy lifted an eyebrow at him. 

“Age matters not.”

“That is a youth’s answer.”

“You are not that old.” 

“I have twice your years and then some.”

The boy hesitated, then breathed deep and moved closer across the glade. 

“I have barely seventeen summers, that is true. But, my lord, I will not live to see many more. Not in this turn. There will be others but this turn, my time is short and I would make the best of it. With you.”

He breathed deep, let it out slowly. True, this was a boy who stood before him but no ordinary boy. This one was gifted. He had the sight and more.

“I do not understand why you want this.”

His answer was a sweet smile. 

“Do you not? You are beautiful, my lord Greywaren, and I have seen what lies beneath your robes.”

Well, there was an unexpected answer. Of all the things he had thought to see on that young face, lust was not one of them. The trees were positively humming in encouragement. It was long since he had anyone, long since he had not been alone. He fought to keep the heat from rising in his cheeks and body and did his best to look severe.

“You have been been creeping around my forest too often.” His privacy was important and he did not take its trespass lightly. The boy was still smiling so the severe look had not been of use. 

“My lord.” The boy was looking at him. It was a very direct look. A man’s look, not a boy’s. 

“Rowan. Do you want me?” He was startled by the jolt of desire that ran through him at the sound of his name on the boy’s lips. The boy had been brave and deserved no less than the truth. Truth, he found, had ever served him well so he did his best to wield it. 

“Adam”, he said, naming in turn. “Yes. Yes, I do.” The trees thrummed with it then, the little glade alive with magic and desire, which of who's he did not know. They were staring at each other across his hearth when he heard the voices. Voices and footsteps coming their way from the direction of the main camp. He turned and by the time he turned back, Adam had disappeared. He was about, no doubt, but so skilled at vanishing and appearing that none would find him unless he was ready to be found. Rowan considered asking the trees, wondered what the response might be but-

“My Lord King.” 

The small procession, headed by the king with his ever present guards and attendants, wound it’s way into the glade. 

“You rise early, my lord Greywaren, you have fire and ale already.” The king was smiling, in good humor this morning, although, as always of late, it distressed Rowan to see the signs of age so readily in him. More so every day. Time, as Adam had pointed out, was fleeting and he was never more aware of it than looking into his king’s face. 

“ I have told you often not to kneel. Tis I who should kneel to you if these old bones would allow.” The king waved him up. 

“The ale and fire were not my doing.”

“Ah”, the king was making himself comfortable by the fire. “He’s persistent, your lad. Have you no thought of giving in?”

The king shot him a roguish smile and was suddenly the Owain Glyn Dwr of legend. The Glyn Dwr of multiple mistresses and fecund marriage, of nights of song and women and poetry. The Gyn Dwr who wove history and speech, magic and legend, who drew an army to follow him against a stronger foe and raised the dream of nation that persisted over decades. Rowan smiled back, more reserved. This was not a topic he wished to discuss with his lord.

“Come, man, none could blame you.”

“Aside from his father.”

Glyn Dwr huffed a breath. 

“I do not envy you that. Sir Robert is a brute, a loyal ally, but a brute none the less. He would be after your hide, in truth, but he is far from here, tending to his lands and already his son has disappointed him by being more sage than warrior. ’Tis the reason he is with us still. I would stand for you, Rowan. Sir Robert will know it.” 

“Adam is very young.”

“Aye, that he is. And very sure of himself. He knows his mind. Master Artemus says he sees far.” 

“Artemus would know.” There was an easy silence between whilst they stared at the flames. Rowan wondered suddenly if Adam had used flint to light them or magic. He sighed. 

“You did not come here to discuss my bed, I think.” 

“I did not.” The king looked around, at his men grouped by the edge of the glade, waiting for their king’s next command, at Rowan by the fire and at the trees in his forest. 

“Can so many years have passed already since we did meet? So many battles. So much hunger and loss. And you. You were a child, wild with grief, but it was you who taught me how to use the forests, how to listen to the trees. You have sheltered me when my men were few and counseled when they were many. You kept me hidden, Rowan, you kept me alive.

“As you did me, my king, as you did many.” 

“I have bought death and poverty, harsh laws and hunger.”

“You have bought hope and belief. And magic.” 

Glyn Dwr held his eyes. “The English do not believe in magic.”

“No, they do not. Is that why you come? To remind me of my promise?”

“They cannot have me, Rowan.”

“They will not, my king. We will keep you safe. We will keep you safe until it is your time again, my Raven King.”

“Artemus says the English will spread far.”

“Then we will go farther.”

“My time draws near, Rowan.”

“I will be ready. I cannot fight by your side but this, this I can do as I have promised.”

“Whichever of my men you need, my sons, the Scudamores, the Hanmers, Sir Alleyn”, Rowan tried to hide his flinch at that last name but could not.

“Ah, Rowan, he is a good man, loyal and fierce. One of my strongest fighters, ever has my back.” 

“I know,” Rowan muttered. 

’Tis history. Long before we even began to understand what you and your father were.”

“I know.”

“Never does a day pass that I do not regret thinking you were of the Greys of Ruthin but your brother-“

“Aye, my Lord.” Never did a day pass that Rowan forgot the pain of his father’s death or the hurt of his brother’s betrayal. He wondered if his brother was still alive. He did not wonder if he had prospered, men like him usually did until their lies caught up with them. 

“I would have you trust Sir Alleyn.”

“For you, I will trust. I cannot forgive.” 

The king seemed satisfied with this and rose, not without effort that was hard to watch. For a second he hovered, then pulled Rowan into a sudden, rough embrace. 

“About the boy-“

“Again, my lord?”

“Yes, again. You have done your duty, the Irish witch returns home and your seed will continue.” Glyn Dwr suddenly let loose with his trademark bellow of a laugh “Ah, my dear Greywaren, it can’t have been that unpleasant, yet the look on your face at the memory.” The king was openly chuckling, his men peering at them curiously, wondering what gave their lord such amusement at a time when there was little to be had.

“You have done everything asked of you and more. You deserve some comfort and if the boy can bring you that, then do not turn him away. Do not spurn what is offered, especially in dark times when life is uncertain.” Glyn Dwr thumped Rowan in a half embrace, his shoulder feeling even now that famous strength. Indeed, the conversation seemed to have invigorated the king and he strode from Rowan’s fire with the energy of a man half his age.

“You know that by nightfall there will be rumors around the camp of the Greywaren’s restorative power.” Adam’s voice and close behind him. 

“I work to secure his future, if that helps him in the present…” Rowan shrugged. 

“Would you take his advice?”

“Can I not have some of this thoughtfully provided breakfast first? My bread will be cold and my ale too warm. Will you take some with me, Adam?”

For a while they chewed in silence. it was comfortable and Rowan thought it was pleasant to have someone to eat beside, even better to look over the fire and see Adam looking back. He knew others thought his was a lonely and silent existence but they were those that could not hear the trees. In truth, Rowan never lacked company and the trees were rarely silent. Perhaps another human would cut down on their discourse. The thought of seeing Adam's fine boned, elegant face across his fire daily filled him with a riot of blood and heat and emotion that was best not dwelt on too closely.

“Do you hear the trees, Adam?”

“Sometimes. Perhaps when they want me to?” 

Rowan nodded. The silence continued. Rowan wondered if Adam minded the silence.

“I do not, my lord. I value your silence as I do your words. And I know you are not lonely but I enjoy being alone with you.” 

Had he spoken out loud? Or could Adam hear his thoughts? 

“Sometimes, my lord. Perhaps when you want me to?”

Rowan wondered what Adam wanted of him. Adam was silent. Rowan sighed. Adam smiled.

“I did hear that but I, I was wondering how best to put it. I do not want to frighten you away.”

Rowan’s brows raised. Adam, it seemed, was good at surprising him.

“What would you have of me?”

“I would be with you now for the time that is left to me. Then, I would…I would tie our souls. I would have them together for the times to come. Am byth, Rowan, would you give me forever?”

Rowan paused with the ale half-way to his lips and blinked. 

Adam looked down, biting his lip. 

“Tis a lot, I know, and if too much, I do understand. But I would not do it if I did not believe…I would not ask this of you, if I did not believe it will be needed. We will be together again, this I know, I have seen although I cannot tell how often and I cannot tell how many years ahead but I would have us find each other. I would do this for the king, the forest, for each other. I would have time with you and one day I believe that I will. We will be of age, we will be young and we will have years. Even if we are not lovers, even if we are to be friends, I would have my soul know yours. To recognize it always through the passing of time.”

Adam was babbling which Rowan had not seen before. He must believe in this deeply. 

“I do.”

“You can do such a thing?”

“I can, Master Artemus has shown me.”

“Artemus knows and counsels this?” 

Rowan was silent for a time. Adam waited. He was patient for one so young.

“For the king, you said?”

“For the king, for Cabeswater. I cannot see how all the threads are tied together but I know it will be so. I know that you and I and Cabeswater and the king will come together once more and we will be needed. “ 

Rowan fell into another silence and again Adam waited. Rowan could not hear the trees but he could feel them and from them came a wave of approval. No, stronger than approval, it was faith. His forest trusted Adam, it had faith in this. Cabeswater was his and he was Cabeswater and somehow this boy, this boy of magic and sight, had come to be a part of them too.

“How would we do this?”

“Tis a promise and some words and-“, Adam dug in his robes and pulled out a small token. “this, this is for you.” 

It was a small, dark pendant carved with the likeness of Glyn Dwr’s sigil.

“A raven.”

“Yes, a raven. It is the symbol of Glyn Dwr but there are also ravens strong about you, my lord Rowan. I see them in my visions. They have much to do with you. This, this holds a raven spirit, I captured it for you. She - tis a she - she is strong in magic and will bring you comfort. She would not yet tell me her name but you will know it, she will tell you when she is needed.” 

The disk was warm in his hands and filled him with a calm energy. Rowan was speechless at the gift.

“This…this is a wonderful thing. Such a gift and I have nothing…wait.”

Rowan scrambled to his feet and headed towards his bower. He did have something. There, in the little box tucked by his mossy pallet, was something of value. It had been given to him by Glyn Dwr’s queen in gratitude for the safety of her lord after Rowan sheltered him in his forest, years before her capture and death. It was a man’s ring, the heavy gold of North Wales, long worn by its princes. Rowan had never worn it as it was too small for the smallest of his fingers but it would fit Adam. It was worthy of him. 

He presented it to Adam and saw the delight glow in his face. 

“My lord Greywaren, such treasures you hide.” 

Rowan, feeling suddenly light of heart and spirit, his Raven disk clutched it one hand, laughed. Adam and the forest joined in. 

“Do we do this now?”

“We do”, said Adam.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

They brought Adam’s body less than five months later. It was a minor raid that they paid for in major casualties. 

Adam’s inclusion in the raiding party was to help locate a stolen heirloom of Glyn Dwr’s house. Apparently, he had a talent for finding such things. Rowan heard the explanations and the apologies but he and the trees were too busy weeping silent tears and explanations and apologies were of little use. It seemed to Rowan every time he opened his heart, it was bought back to him battered and bloody, stretched over a rude pallet. He had thought the arrow through his neck had meant a quick death but as they moved Adam’s body, he saw the sword rent across his gut and the blood soaked clothing around it. The fletch had familiar markings, he realized and it was as a sword through his own belly to realize whose. 

“Twas a kindness, my lord. He would not have survived such a wound, his dying would have been long and painful.” Logical, he knew, but he could not a fathom a father making such a shot. 

“Sir Robert would have taken the body to his lands but the king overruled.” 

 

Adam had said their time together would be short but Rowan had not realized how short. Adam, as he had discovered Adam often was, had been right again. Rowan buried him in the little glade they had shared. In the weeks of silence that followed his death, Rowan was deeply glad they had had that time together. He was grateful for Adam’s surety, grateful for his love and above all grateful for that little ceremony that Adam said would tie their souls. Am byth, Adam had said and Rowan wanted to believe. More and more, he clung to the promise that they would have time together again. The trees whispered to him of Adam’s belief and sometimes their chatter echoed like Adam’s laughter through his forest. He held the little raven disc close and felt its healing balm but the raven spirit did not come, so her time was not to be this one. 

He had not seen the king since the raid. They had lost more than Adam and the king was grieving a son and good men. It was increasingly plain that Glyn Dwr’s time was drawing to an end. The country, its king and its men were exhausted. 

On the morning Rowan noticed the grey strands amongst his dark hair, his glade was again visited by the king. Rowan was stuck by how much he had aged in the previous weeks. There would be no rumors of restorative power after this visit no matter what he and Cabeswater said to him. 

They sat again in companionable silence but this time Rowan had kindled his own fire.

“My lord Greywaren.” 

“My lord king.” 

“I am sorry about Adam.”

“As am I about your son.”

After the king left, Rowan remembered how Adam had talked of the visions he had seen of the times to come: buildings that towered into the sky and machines they could not yet dream coming to be, of the dragon rising again and the world burned down in war more than a handful of times. Rowan thought of Adam’s bones buried but his soul waiting somewhere in time for his own. Then he rose and put out his fire. He had a forest to ready, a promise to keep and a journey to make. It would be soon and it would be far. 

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Adam opened his eyes in the soft early light of Cabeswater. It was a light like no other. The glade was peaceful and beautiful. Adam loved it and had since Ronan led him here. He did not know how Ronan found it or even knew of its existence. Adam could not recall a place that seemed so instantly familiar, nor one where he had felt so deeply at peace. He had tried to find it once alone but could not. He suspected it was a place Cabeswater reserved for its Greywaren. 

Ronan was unnaturally still beside him, heat pouring off him in waves. Adam knew instantly he was dreaming and propped himself on a elbow to wait. He would have liked to touch him, to brush kisses over his face and neck but he knew to touch Ronan now might mean to summon him inadvertently from his dream. Adam nestled as close as he dared and watched. 

He knew the second Ronan returned to himself, although trapped in that peculiar paralysis he went through before regaining control of his body. Adam put his hand on Ronan’s warm bare shoulder. Ronan’s eyes opened and fixed on him, letting Adam know he appreciated the contact though he could not move yet. Adam stroked over his shoulder and chest, wrapped his arms around Ronan's heaving shoulders as he drew in greedy gasps of breath. Adam leaned to nuzzle at Ronan's collarbone. There was a flutter of wings and Chainsaw landed near Ronan’s other shoulder, back from her mysterious Cabeswater errands. She pecked the ground, close enough to reassure but not disturb. 

Ronan’s left hand was tightly clutched around something that Adam could not see but as feeling returned and Ronan's hands began to twitch into motion, his hand unfolded to reveal a heavy gold ring cupped in his palm. It looked very old. Ronan moved his head back and forth, rolling his neck relax the sinewy tension. His gaze on Adam was still otherworldly and in his eyes was new knowledge and confusion. He brought his palm up to Adam, offering. 

“It’s yours”, he said.


End file.
